Rumour Has It
by DrNaka2k17
Summary: After a bitter divorce, Hermione Granger is on a mission to find herself. Rumour has it, it's about to get steamy with the help of Charlie Weasley and Oliver Wood. Triad fic! eventual Smut! NC-17
1. My Leftovers

_Hello readers!  
Introducing my first full length story, "Rumour Has It." It was inspired by the Adele song of the same name. Music is a big part of my inspiration, and the chapter titles will each be a different song that inspired my writing. I recommend giving it a listen to set the mood for the chapter.  
Main cast: Hermione Granger, Oliver Wood, and Charlie Weasley  
This will be an __**Adult**_ _story, NC-17 in later chapters. This is a triad fan-fiction.  
Reviews are love!  
-Tanaka_

Prologue- "My Leftovers" Porcelain and the Tramps

Hermione knew something was awry as soon as she slid through the warding into the flat she shared with her husband. Ron had made it home before her, as usual, her tendency to overwork herself as the Ministry's liaison to the Regulation of Magical Creature's department once again making her hours late. She could sense him within her carefully laid wards, a familiar buzz against her own energy; what was different however, was the nauseating smell of perfume that wasn't her own and the obnoxious pink nightie discarded on the way up the stairs. That definitely wasn't there when she left for work this morning.

She knew exactly where this was heading. The signs had been obvious for far too long, and Hermione, in an effort to save face and her marriage, dug her head into the sand. Grimly, she followed the line of discarded clothing up the stairs to their bedroom. Wand at the ready, Hermione pushed the door open and shattered the silencing charm someone was thoughtful enough to cast.

Her mouth dropped agape as she found her husband being ridden like a champion pony by none other than the champion skank of their year, Lavender Brown. Miss Brown was now a wizarding porn star, and even trashier than ever before. Her hair was charmed bleach blonde with a good amount of root showing, silicone breasts and lips bounced gaily as she screwed herself on Hermione's husband's cock. Hermione's fury turned into raucously laughter as she heard Lavender squeal out in her best porn voice "Oh Won-won!" While she still had the upper hand, Hermione cast a vicious stinging hex at both incriminating party's genital.

"Fuck!" Ron's eyes widened as he saw his wife standing in the doorway. Blushing furiously, he tried to cover his lover and himself. "This isn't what it looks like, Mione." It bit out around the pain of feeling like his cock was in a vice. Lavender didn't even have the decency to look ashamed as she smirked at Hermione.

"It's not what it looks like, Ron? Is that the best you've got? I've been standing in that doorway long enough to know it's exactly what it looks like. You've been fucking the bicycle of Gryffindor house in OUR marriage bed!" Hermione surely must be turning an interesting shade of tomato red as she screamed at her husband.

"Hermione, darling, I was just helping Ronald work thru some issue within your marriage. I'm a certified sex counselor, you see. He was just trying to figure out how to liven up your sex life. I was going to be invited in as your third, until we determined you're too much of a prude for a triad." Lavender purred at her, until she caught the backhanded comment Hermione had made. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, 'the bicycle of Gryffindor?"

"It means, luv, that everyone has had a turn on you." Hermione sneered cattily. "Just because I valued the sanctity of our marriage doesn't make me a prude, Ronald. I've given you seven fucking years, and you don't even have the decency to talk to me about our sex life? Instead you're fucking your old girlfriend, turned porn star, in my house? You've got some nerve."

"Mione, please give me a chance to explain! Lav was just giving me advice on how to be a better lover for you! I was practicing!" Ron climbed out of bed, trying to get his wife to listen.

"That's rich, coming from the woman who's faked it more than I have in the past 5 years." Hermione chuckled bitterly. Ron tried to grab her shoulders, and she aimed her wand under his chin. "I'd think better of putting your hands on me. You may be the Auror, husband, but I will still kick your arse in spellwork. Remove your hands, before I do it myself, and you end up with bloody stumps where hands should be." She looked positively Slytherin as she sneered at Ron. Evidently it worked as he jerked back, looking quite frightened.

"Please, Mione, we can work this out." He begged as she summoned an overnight bag she kept filled with necessities. "I love you."

Her laugh was bitter. "I've realized long ago, Ronald, you only loved the idea of me. You'll be served with divorce papers within the week. I hope the slut will be enough to keep you warm at night. Have a nice fucking life." She turned on her heel to leave a gaping Ron and smirking Lavender sitting on her bed.

*-*-*-*6 months later*-*-*-*-*  
"He seriously married the stupid bint! Not only that, but the day after your divorce was finalized! Some bloody fucking nerve, the sod. I don't count him as any brother of mine, anymore." A very pregnant and angry Ginny Potter raved. She waddled around her kitchen, angrily waving her wand in an attempt to make lunch as Hermione sat at the table. Harry winced as he ducked a rogue plate.

"Gin, please sit down. I'll finish up lunch. It's not good for James for you to be so upset." Harry put a loving hand on his wife's very swollen belly. He was so tender with Ginny; Hermione knew he was going to be such an amazing father.

"Don't you think you can tell me what to do, Harry. But I am tired… so I'll sit down and gossip while you cook." She grinned at him, batting her eyelashes. Hermione envied their banter, the easy give and take of their relationship. The last six months had been eye opening. The gossip rags went crazy when Hermione filed for divorce, and then to find out Lavender was pregnant with her ex's child as well, it kept them in business for months.

"I hate putting you in the middle of this…." Hermione whined, banging her head on the table. The entire Weasley clan had shunned their brother, and even Molly was a bit terse with him since their split, but she was trying to make the best of it for the baby, of course.

"You've not put us in the middle of shit, Mione. Ron made his bed, and now he can lay in it." Harry chimed in, chopping vegetables for sandwiches. Harry had actually punched Ron when he went to help her move the last of her things from their home to her new apartment. Ron's newly broken nosed gushed blood as he stared agape at his best friend. Harry promptly warned him if he were to ever darken his and Ginny's doorstep ever again, he could expect much worse. Family meant more to Harry than anyone had ever realized. At least Harry's position as Head Auror meant he and Ron where no longer partners.

"I know that, but it doesn't sooth my guilt any. You were his family and friends before you were mine. I'm hoping this distance will do us all good." Hermione smiled at her friends. Ginny gave her a dirty look and proceeded to get teary eyed.

"He fucks up and you're the one that has to leave! It's not bloody fucking fair!" The fire haired woman groused, a hand on her belly.

"I don't have to leave, Gin. I want to. This teaching position at Hogwarts is only a trial run for this year; If I don't enjoy it I'll come back home and find something else. But Professor Flitwick did retire and leave Minerva in quite the bind. I don't understand why no one wanted to teach Charms; it's a fascinating subject." Hermione told her for the millionth time. Harry chuckled lightly, setting lunch in front of the girls, kissing his wife's cheek.

"That's just the thing, Mione. We know you. You're going to love it and have this whole new life. What if you can't make it back for James' birth? I don't think I can do it without you." Ginny's lower lip trembled, and her eyed welled up with tears. Hermione squeezed her friend in a tight hug.

"I'm just a floo call away, love. I'll be back at the first sign of labour. What kind of God-Mother would I be if I missed his birth? Plus someone has to keep Harry from fainting." Hermione winked at Harry cheekily. Ginny giggled, wiping at her eyes.

"At least Charlie will be there to keep you company. For the love of Merlin, please don't let him convince you to play with any of the beasties he's got planned for the students this year. Actually, from the word around the league you'll be in good company. Puddlemere let Oliver Wood go after that accident at the end of last season. He's taking Madame Hooch's old position as the flying instructor. And Neville, of course in Herbology. Hogwarts is really getting a good dose of fresh blood this year." Ginny mused.

Hermione smiled to herself. A new generation of professors, children who wouldn't really remember the war, a Hogwarts that was whole…. New possibilities abounded. While she was terrified of starting over, at least she could leave behind the scandal of her failed marriage, the gossip rags constantly waiting outside her apartment, and the all-seeing eyes of her dear friends. She loved them fiercely, but sometimes you had to take a risk to get what you wanted out of life, and being a 26 year old cat lady was not what she aspired to be.


	2. Slow Burn

**Hey guys!  
Thanks for the love on the prologue, now I bring you chapter 1. I really struggled with writing Oliver's accent, so please let me know what you think. Reviews are love!  
-T**

Chapter 1 – "Slow burn" Atreyu

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the old charms classroom as Hermione finished up the last bit of cleaning. The room was no longer dusty, stale, or dated. Hermione's own personal taste was clear in the artwork and posters lining the room, the clean lemon scent, and candles floating everywhere, giving off soft warm light. It was the perfect space to start the new school year tomorrow.

Her personal quarters up near the Astronomy tower were decorated in much the same. Gone where the Gryffindor colors Ron had favored, replaced by cool blues and greys. They soothed her ragged soul and offered her a peaceful place to lay her head. Hermione had arrived earlier that day, as was required of new professors, to set up her space. She spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect. In less than 24 hours, her student would arrive.

And….. the Brightest Witch of Her Age was nervous. She had zero experience with teaching, but loved being a student. All she could do was to be the Professor she would've loved to have had in her years at Hogwarts. She would have to tone down her expectations, Professor McGonagall had assured her of that. Her former Head of House, had also assured her how much she would love it. There was no experience that could prepare for the joy, pure and true, as you watched your students grow and learn to control the magic stemming from their very souls.

After the chaos of the last 6 months of her life, Hermione had finally found peace. Single life was suiting to her and Crookshanks, her beloved kneazel. She was no longer the shell of the woman she had become under Ron. She was vivacious; unstoppable. She wore clothes more daring than she would ever have been allowed to with her ex-husband, her feminine curves accentuated by clingy tops, slinky dresses, and a fabulous new collection of underwear. Ron, for all his chest beating, was still a pure blooded wizard who had expected her to meet certain expectations. She'd taken to wearing more muggle clothing since leaving her job at the ministry. Hermione Granger was now more comfortable in her own skin than she had ever been in her entire adult life.

Her wool gathering was interrupted by a knock against the door frame. "Got a minute to say hello to an old friend, darling?" A familiar baritone voice called. She spun with a grin to see Charlie Weasley smiling roguishly at her as he leaned against the doorway. It had been at nearly two years since she'd last seen Charlie, and time had certainly been good to her former brother in law.

Standing at close to six and a half feet, he was the tallest of the Weasley sons, but not lanky as you would expect for someone of his height; instead his frame was heavily muscled and as tanned as his pale skin would allow. His Weasley red hair was shoulder length, tied back at the nape of his neck, and his blue eyes danced with mischief. The closely shorn goatee he wore was different, but he wore it well. Hermione spotted a few new magical tattoos and scars adorning his arms, and the same dragon fang earring he and Bill always wore was in his left ear. He wore his jeans and fitted black T-shirt like a second skin. He looked every bit the dangerous Dragon Tamer she knew him to be.

"Of course! Charlie, it's damn good to see you." She jumped off her desk, walking towards him at a brisk pace. He met her halfway and scooped her up in a tight hug. She was keenly aware of how small she was in his arms. Her feet dangled just below his knees. His cheek brushed hers, and she idly wondered what that stubble would feel like on other parts of her skin.

"You too, kitten. What's this cursing I hear? Tut, tut, Professor Granger." He laughed boisterously, sitting her back on her feet. As much as Charlie had hated to hear what had happened between Hermione and his idiot brother, she looked good, happy. There was a spark in her eyes again.

She did her best to look menacing, and quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, Charlie, you're certainly one to talk. I expect you can teach me an entirely new vocabulary of Romanian curses, as well as some more inventive English ones from your time out on the Reserve. Besides, I'm not a Professor until the students arrive tomorrow." She stated, sassily.

His smile was quick and easy, "You're very correct; I can and may teach you a few things. If you're finished here, what do you say to joining me and the rest of the younger crowd for dinner and a pint in Hogsmeade? A little bit of a celebration and catching up, for old time's take." He coaxed needlessly. When was the last time she had gone for a drink with friends? She couldn't remember.

"That sound's lovely. I'm famished. I didn't realize how late it had gotten while I was working. Do I have time to go change?" She gestured helplessly towards her dirty clothes. "I don't exactly look fitting to be seen in public."

"Are you a witch or not, woman? Scougify them, and you'll be good to go. Come on, kitten, they won't wait forever." Charlie harassed, as he was known to do. He had an easy-going air about him, but once he wanted something he was like a bulldog with a bone.

The walk to The Three Broomsticks was quick. Banter flowed easily between Hermione and Charlie as they took the familiar path on the warm summer evening. Although they hadn't known each other well until after the war, Hermione counted Charlie as her second favorite Weasley, after Ginny. He was… magnetic. You couldn't help but like the man. He had been one of the first she'd floo called after finding Lavender and Ron together. He understood anger, having worked with fire-breathing dragons for the past 15 years. His offer to maim Ron to a bloody pulp was an open-ended offer, should she ever decide it was necessary.

Charlie's hand was warm at the small of her back as he guided her into the pub and toward a booth in the far back corner. Familiar faces could be found. Neville, now in his third term as Professor of Herbology, had grown into his skin, looking confident and calm as he offered a smile and a wave. Hannah Abbott, also in her third term as Professor of Muggle Studies, was cozied up to him, and offered Hermione a warm smile. Rounding out their merry group was Oliver Wood, joining herself and Charlie in their first terms. Wood's eyes were vaguely predatory as he surveyed Hermione with interest. Their gazes met and a spark of heat flooded Hermione's system.

Wood had always been an enigma to her in their Hogwarts days. No one besides the Quidditch team had known much about him, and even they were limited by his obsession with the sport. He'd grown into his lanky frame, she realized. Professional quidditch training had left him quite fit. His face no longer held its boyish charm; his closely cropped beard and hair set off his angular cheekbones and jawline. But those warm hazel eyes put her hackles up. This wasn't a man to be trifled with, for her own sanity; every inch of her body felt hyperaware as she slid into the booth next to him. Charlie took the seat next to her, and she felt like she could've choked on their overwhelming presences on either side of her.

"Hello, Hermione. It's good to see ye." Oliver said softly, is brogue brushed against her skin almost as if it were a physical caress.

Shaking off her gut feeling, she gave him a bright smile, and fought the urge to squirm in her seat. "You too, Oliver." Thankfully, Hannah and Neville were wrapped up in canoodling with each other, but Charlie's eyes caught the entire exchange. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Drinks and food were fetched, and Hermione felt much more comfortable with a pint of butterbeer in her hand. She laughed at the tales Neville told of some unfortunate incidents with some of his plants, none however, topping the mandrake incident of their second year. Hannah, quiet as ever, only added to the conversation when spoken too directly. Hermione remembered that crippling shyness well. She was going to make it a point to draw her out this year.

Charlie talked animatedly of his time on the reserve, telling stories she had heard many times before, but never grew old. Charlie was a passionate about rebuilding the dragon population, and had worked tirelessly to help grow the breeding programs; something he and Hermione had worked together on during her time at the ministry.

As Neville and Hannah bid their farewells and headed back towards the castle, conversation drifted to quidditch, the former teammates shocked at her depth of knowledge at the sport. Having never played and being terrified of flying, Hermione had caught on over the years listening to Ginny, Harry and Ron. She was by no means an expert but could hold her own. Hermione liked to be competent in all aspects of her life.

Sipping her butterbeer, she observed the two men from lowered lashes. They were so comfortable around each other. Four years of quidditch, she supposed, could do that, however long ago that may've been. Charlie was animated, hands flying as he spoke; Wood, however, more reserved. His predator's eyes occasionally flickering to Hermione. His gaze left a trail of heat wherever it touched. Her cleavage specifically, felt warm.

"What'd you say, Hermione?" Charlie asked, a bright smile lit up his features. She shook off her daze.

"I'm sorry, care to repeat that?" She shouldn't be this lightheaded after a few beers, no matter how infrequent her alcohol consumption. She should attribute it to the two masculine gazes cutting her way.

"What'd you say to a bonfire with just the three o' us? Tis' a better place to catch up than a pub, ye know? I've got a bottle of firewhiskey I could bring, if ye'd like." Oliver pondered, his soft voice pouring over her. Good knight, that accent... Hermione pressed her legs together unwittingly.

She bit her lip, and watched as both Charlie and Oliver's gaze dropped to the teeth nipping into her full lower lip. Well, okay then. "Whiskey sounds a perfect end to this night. I'm assuming we'll be outside Hagrid's hut? Well, Charlie's hut now?" Hermione asked. "I should really go change into something more comfortable…. And warmer." She gestured to her torn jeans and thin tank top.

"Don't be ridiculous. You can borrow warmer clothes from me. Oliver, lets walk her back to the cabin, and break open that bottle." Charlie was so fucking confident in himself, no matter what the situation. A tipsy Hermione put up no argument as they paid their tab, and carted her off towards Hogwarts.

She was content as both men slung an arm around her waist. She liked the fact that they were not afraid to touch her. Granted, they were both supporting her as she stumbled along, but that was beside the point. Gods, it had been ages since she allowed herself to be free like this. The cool air and brisk walk had gifted her some clarity. Charlie laid her out an old quidditch jersey and a soft pair of sweats to wear before he lit the fire.

Her former surname emblazoned on her back, wearing clothes that smelled like Charlie she rejoined the men around a now blazing fire. She was quite gone as she toasted the two men with a glass of whiskey half as full as their own. "To new beginnings!" she proclaimed, clinking her glass with their own. She downed the drink in a single pull, reveling in the warmth as the liquor hit her system.

"I'll drink to that." Oliver winked at her, downing a good portion of his glass. "Come on luv, have a sit." Charlie looked slightly concerned as he refilled her glass, but said nothing. Hermione was once again positioned loosely between the two men. The firelight cast interesting shadows on their faces, lending to the air of mystery surround them.

"So, this is what it feels like to let loose, hmm?" She pondered, staring into the dancing flames. At 26, Hermione could count of one hand the number of times in her life she had allowed herself more than two drinks. Ron had always gotten far too intoxicated when they went out for her to do anything besides babysit him. She sipped the liquor, and blew steamy air into the cool night air, giggling.

"Now that you're well into your cups, care to tell me the truth about what my fuckhead of a brother did?" Charlie asked. Her languid body immediately went stiff, but then softened.

"I suppose I will. It'll be good for my soul to talk about how damned horrible he was. A cathartic release, more than anything." Her laugh was bitter on her tongue. "I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how much baggage I'm about to unload on you Oliver."

"Nothing to apologize for. I don' reckon any of it was yer doin'. Jus' speak yer peace." He patted her arm, and refilled her glass of liquid courage with a smile.

"You know I caught him in bed with Lavender Brown, Charlie, but Ron had been acting suspicious for weeks. Coming home late, leaving for work early, I could've swore I smelled perfume on him a few times too, but I have no proof. In my soul, I knew, though. Our sex life had been non-existent for months; well, since we found out I couldn't have children. That was so hard to deal with, especially once Ginny got pregnant.

I've spent the past few months grieving not only the loss of my marriage, but the death of the person I was with Ron. I put up with so much shite in the past few years I can't even explain. He was more obvious about his distaste of my work, and everything else I did, telling me I was wasting my time fighting for werewolf rights. He changed. I think he blamed me for not being able to give him children, so he belittled me any way he could. I tried so hard to make it work, but finding him in my bed with a fucking porn slag was my last straw. He made a fool of me. D'you know, she had the nerve to tell me he'd planned to bring her in as a third in our marriage?" She hiccupped as laughed, and downed the last of her whiskey.

Charlie looked dumbfounded, struggling for words. "You… You're serious? Hermione, if I'd have known…"

She cut him off, "But you didn't, Charlie. I've survived so much, this isn't likely to kill me. After some soul searching I've figured out I was married to your brother because it was what was expected after the war. I don't think I ever really loved him; I just deluded myself into thinking I did. It was comfortable. I've made my peace with it, but I'll never settle for comfortable ever again. I took this position to reinvent myself I suppose. I just want to figure out who I am as a woman. I never took time to do that before. I wonder if I am the cold fish your brother accused me of being." Her gaze never left the fire.

"I'd reckon Ron is the fecking fool here, not you, lass. Throwin' a beauty like you away is a crime. I'd not figure ye to be the cold fish type. Ye're too feisty." Oliver smirked at her, refilling her glass. The alcohol had done its job, and she laughed as he'd meant her to.

"Thank you? I think." She drank again.

"He meant it as a compliment, I promise. He's right though. You've got nothing to be sorry for. But I'm going to punch the fool in the mouth the next time I see him. I won't bring it up again, love, I just had to know." Charlie kissed her hand gently, and his warm lips set her overloaded system aflame. She bit her lip. Why was she so attracted to him? He should remind her too much of Ron, but those tattoos and intense eyes did something to her.

"Why'd you leave your dragons, Charlie?" She wondered. He leaned back on the blanket, contemplative. He made Hermione think of a big cat.

"Ma and Dad are getting on in years. I've got a passel of nieces and nephews to spoil. Mostly, I'd spent fifteen years in the company of dragons with all my limbs intact. It was time to leave before my luck ran out. I'll be going back every now and then for a holiday, though. Teaching lets me keep current, but is a little easier on my body." He gestured to the multitude of scars covering his arms.

"Don't you know, witches love the scars? It makes them think you're dangerous." She giggled. Charlie quirked an eyebrow.

"Love, whatcha don't realize is how dangerous Charlie Weasley really is." Oliver threw an arm around her shoulder. Charlie cut him a dark look.

"What about you, Oliver Wood? You're dangerous too. I know that. The papers always talked about the string of women you left in your wake." Gods, was that her voice? So flirty.

He chuckled darkly, "I promise ye, I've never taken a lass to bed that dinae want to go. Broombunnies are only fun for the first year or so though. Then it makes it sweeter to go for the ones who play hard ta get." Hermione was going to have fantasy fuel for a year if this conversation kept going. Was it always this fun to flirt?

"On that note, darling, I'm cutting you off and putting you to bed. You've clearly passed your limits." Charlie stated. He was right. Sober Hermione wouldn't say things like this.

"Are you going to make me walk all that way all alone?" She whined, leaning against Oliver, who tightened his grip on her waist.

"Never, pet. I'll walk ye back. Me quarters are in the castle, too." Oliver offered.

"That, or you could take my bed, love. The choice is yours." Charlie smiled at her, but there was something incomprehensible burning behind his blue eyes. She blinked, trying to gather her wits. The thought of being in Charlie's bed was enough to flush her cheeks and make her squirm slightly.

"I'm not taking your bed when I have a perfectly usable one inside. Oli can walk me back, and make sure I don't pass out elsewhere before I get there." She tried to keep her voice steady, but could help but think she was opting for one beast over another. She leaned over and kissed Charlie's cheek; his stubble rasping under her lips. "Thank you, though."

"Always, Mione." He promised; and she felt the weight of his gaze as Oliver, ever the gentleman, helped her gain her tipsy feet, and caught her when she swayed.

Calling their goodbyes, the pair started the trek to the castle. Hermione may have leaned a little heavier than necessary on Oliver; enjoying the warm hands that caught and guided her missteps. Alcohol made her realize how long it had been since she'd enjoyed a man's touch.

"Careful now." He chuckled as she tripped a stair. They'd climbed innumerous steps and were nearing her quarters now. His arms were tight around her waist as he damn near carried her to the portrait of the Furies who guarded her chambers.

"What if I'm tired of being careful?" She said, feeling reckless. Her pose was deceptively relaxed as she leaned on the wall.

"Then wit' anything but yer safety, Feck it. Wha's it matter if anyone has somethin' to say?" He smirked at her, and brushed a wild curl out of her face. Gathering her nerve, she spoke.

"Oliver, can I ask you a favor?" Her heart was racing. She twined her arms around his neck.

"Anythin', pet." He tipped her chin up.

"Kiss me." She whispered, standing on her tip toes. On a soft growl, Oliver took her mouth. No soft foreplay, just pure hunger. He pinned her against the wall, and lips and tongue clashed. Her hands were in his hair as she poured nearly a year's worth of pent up sexual frustration into their kiss.

He pulled away panting, his whiskey eyes wild with lust, and a noticeable tent in the front of his jeans. "I should go."

"You can come inside, if you'd like. You don't have to go." She tried not to whine. She was wet, achy, and in desperate need of an orgasm.

"When I take ye to bed, pet, I'd like yeh to remember it. G'night, Hermione." He murmered into her ear. Chills went down her spine and hardened her nipples against his chest. Smirking, he stepped back, kissed her cheek, and left her standing against her doorway as he walked away whistling.


	3. Stand In Lover

_Hey guys!I strongly recommend listening to the title track for this chapter. It gives you some idea as to what's going on in Hermione's head during all this. Things are really staring to get steamy with our favorites now. I can't wait to hear what you guys think.  
3 Tanaka_

Chapter 2 Stand In Lover- Oh No Fiasco

Hermione woke to a pounding headache, cotton mouth, and a soft scratching at the window. Blearily, she stumbled over to the window to let in a huge golden barn owl. Feeding him a treat, she freed the package from his leg.

 _A little something to take the edge off – Charlie_

A vial of what she assumed to be a hangover draught was included. Gods bless Charlie Weasley. She popped the cork, downed the potion, and immediately her head returned to its normal state. Looking out the window as the owl flew away, she realized the sun wasn't where it should be. Godric's testicles! She'd slept until lunch.

Rather than feeling like a bum, Hermione felt refreshed as she made a cup of tea and sat on her large window seat. She never allowed herself to overindulge; it had been a very eye- opening experience, she thought. She wouldn't be getting knackered that often, but a good buzz wouldn't hurt. Fire whiskey had certainly allowed her boldness she would've found impossible otherwise. She shivered in the warm sunshine, remembering the heat with which Oliver had kissed her. After he'd left, she'd came twice under her own hand imagining herself pinned underneath his strong body with a running commentary in that naughty accent of his.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Hermione went about finishing unpacking her space. It was cozy and calm. She'd brought her own bed from her flat, a huge king-sized monstrosity that had been her first purchase after the divorce, and it dominated the space. She'd divided her sleeping quarters from the rest with a folding screen, and a small overstuffed sofa and huge chair created a nice living room in front of the fireplace. Her space was open and airy, and she felt at home immediately. It was different to be back at Hogwarts as an adult.

Hermione roamed the castle all day, rediscovering the magic of her school. The war had left scars on the building, but with the years that had passed, they'd softened, blending into the surroundings and adapting to the point she could no longer tell what was old or new. She was pleasantly surprised to find her favorite spots to hide on the grounds remained untouched.

As students were due to start arriving soon, Hermione went to her room to trade her muggle clothes for robes. McGonagall allowed muggle clothing in the classrooms, but asked all the staff wear wizarding wear for the welcoming feasts. A fitted pencil skirt, cream blouse, and black wedges were hidden beneath her favorite deep plum robes. She left her hair loose with her makeup soft. Glancing in the mirror, she smiled. Looking every bit the professor she now was, she went to join the rest of the staff for the beginning of term meeting.

Hermione was one of the first to arrive as usual, taking her spot at the head of the Great Hall. Others filtering in slowly behind her. Nodding to her former professors, and smiling at her friends as Oliver and Charlie seated themselves on each side of her. Headmistress McGonagall efficiently gave all of them the necessary information and a copy of the schedules for the year. Her crisp voice echoed in the empty hall.

"I'd also like to welcome the newest additions to the Hogwarts Staff; Professors Granger, Weasley, and Wood. If you require anything, please feel free to stop by my office. I wish you all good luck, and it's good to have you back at Hogwarts." She smiled softly at three of her former students and house members. "Now the students have arrived at Hogsmeade station and will be joining us shortly."

The next two hours where chaos. Students filtered into the Great Hall with a roar of noise. The first years were sorted with much fanfare, and students openly stared at the new professors with curiosity. She supposed three in one year were a bit unusual. The food was, as always delicious, and to know all the house elves were paid for their labor made her heart happy.

She felt extraordinarily comfortable sitting between her two friends. Conversation flowed freely, and she was surprised that there was no awkwardness between Oliver and herself after their passionate kiss last night. She flirted shamelessly. He bantered back with her, but she could see the lust burning behind his eyes; Lust, what a powerful drug.

She spoke quietly to Charlie as they rose to leave. "Come up to my room for a bit? I've got your clothes to give you back as well." He nodded, putting his hand on the sway of her spine and leading her out of the Hall. "I forgot to thank you for the hangover potion this morning. That was very thoughtful of you, and I certainly needed it. I forgot what it's like to need it. I suppose I'd better brew a batch." Hermione pondered.

Charlie laughed as they climbed the stairs. Hermione envied him as he damn near ran up, never winded, while she felt every stair in her heels. "I've got a stockpile left from the reserve. It was their parting gift to me. I drank enough wrestling dragons, the other keeps figured I'd need double to endure teaching. You're very welcome, though. How was your walk back with Oliver, eh?" He wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

She felt hair face get hot, and attempted to hide behind the fall of her hair. "I should've known you'd know. And men say women are gossips."

"Oh, come on kitten. You know I'm only taking the mickey. Wood's a good bloke, but his tastes may be a bit extreme for you." Charlie stopped, and spun her to face him.

Skillfully avoiding his eyes, "In an effort not the give the portraits more to talk about, we'll continue this discussion inside, please." Hermione pleaded, giving the giggling portrait of some medieval court the side eye.

Robes discarded, and once she was ensconced on her favorite chair, a glass of elf wine in hand, Charlie brought it up again. "I'm just saying, Hermione, Wood is a bit wilder than you give him credit for. After such a hiatus in with dating, are you sure you want to break your fast with that one?" He'd shucked his robes too, leaving him in tan slacks and a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up and top 3 buttons undone.

"Who said anything about dating? Charlie, I appreciate your concern, but I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions. If I decide to shag any and every available male in a 5-kilometer radius, that's my prerogative. And honestly, that's all I want; sex, pleasure, and a good deal of it." She spoke frankly, crossing her legs, unknowingly giving Charlie a glimpse of creamy thigh.

"I never thought I'd hear you say you want casual sex, Ms. Granger. Every male, hmm? Perhaps I should tell you besides the village, the only available males are Wood and myself. Unless you count Filch, of course." Charlie smirked, pinning her with his gaze.

"Well then, I suppose I'll have to widen my search area then." Hermione said haughtily. Secretly she was thrilled. Maybe it was the taboo factor of who he was; maybe it was just because she'd always liked the way Charlie looked at her. Maybe it was because she couldn't help but picture herself sandwiched between Charlie and Oliver. That got her thinking. "How do you know so much about Oliver's sexual preferences anyway, hmm, Charlie?"

She knew they weren't gay. Wood and Charlie had both left too long a line of broken hearts in their wake. But could they have been sharing women? It didn't make sense. They were both too alpha male for something like that to work. Her mind raced. Charlie wasn't jealous when he'd found out Oliver had kissed her; he'd seemed almost pleased. Her thoughts must've been written all over her face.

"You keep telling yourself that, princess, and oh don't you wish you knew." Charlie's grin was sinful; slow and warm like melted chocolate. Hermione could've sworn she felt her core temperature rise a few degrees, and she fought the overwhelming desire to fan her face. Her mind could barely process what her subconscious was telling her.

Licking her lips, and gulping a fortifying sip of wine; she gathered her newfound boldness. Could she do this? Well, dammit, she was going to try. "What's a lady have to do to figure it out?" She played coy; but Gods, what that _her_ breathy voice? She was shocked to know she could sound so sexy. She cocked her head, uncrossed her legs, parting them ever so slightly, and raised her eyes to meet Charlie's blue flame gaze. Her pulse beat staccato in her ears and her mouth was dry as he devoured her with his eyes.

"Careful, love; You're playing with fire." Charlie cautioned. She felt the heat of his gaze alternating between her cleavage, and the shadowy vee of her parted thighs.

"Good. You can teach me how to avoid getting burned." She purred, standing up and coming to join him on the couch.

Pulling her down into his lap he muttered; "Baby, I _am_ the fire," before dropping his mouth to hers. Where Oliver was passion and control; Charlie was playful and hungry, teasing her mouth. He amped up her already screaming desire to a breaking point. His tongue teased against hers before retreating; and she chased after him.

He let her be the aggressor as she tangled her hands into his burnished copper hair; that delightful goatee teasing against her skin. Swinging her leg over to straddle him, her skirt rucked further up her thighs, and Charlie's hands were like branding irons against the newly exposed skin. She felt him tense as she seated herself fully on top of his raging hard-on. She trailed kisses down his jawline, grinding herself against him.

His groan was music to her ears. "Fucking Hell, Hermione." Her teeth nipped his neck before she was airborne.

She giggled as Charlie rolled her; pinning her down with the full weight of his body. Wrists above her head and immobile; she smirked up at him. "Something bothering you, darling?" She purred, attempting to wiggle away.

"Just a minx temping my self-control." Charlie muttered; dragging his nose along her exposed collarbone. "Damn it; you smell good. I should stop." His mouth latched onto the crook of her neck.

"But what if I don't want you to?" She breathed. He found the spot under her ear that had her squirming. She desperately needed some type of friction, because Gods, he knew how to use that mouth.

"Minx. I'd take you to bed if we didn't have to teach early in the morning. I want to take my time. Savor you. Know exactly how to make you come apart under my tongue. It'll take hours to sate me and absence makes the heart grow fonder." His dick twitched against her hip, and she swore she felt an echo of that dull throb in her clit.

"Tease." She purred.

"I'll see to it you know the real meaning of that word." Charlie promised, his fingers trailing along the backs of her arms. Gooseflesh followed. Hermione shivered and squirmed under his body. She wasn't sure if she was fighting to get closer or pull away.

"Promises, promises. So, tell me if what I've gathered is true? You like to share women; you've shared with Oliver before, and you want me to be with you both." In an effort to keep a clear head, she wiggled her way out from under Charlie, and he let her go.

"I forgot how bright you are. Yes, Hermione. I've been in quite a few triads over the years; it was common on the reserve when men vastly outnumbered woman. It's exquisite to see a woman at the absolute peak of their pleasure, and being doted on by two lovers tends to have that effect.

Oliver and I have shared a few willing women, and I would love nothing more than to teach you how good it can be. I want to show you things about your body and your sexuality you've never imagined. You hold the power here, though; It's your decision." Charlie got up to pace. "I didn't expect to spring it on you this quickly, but when you told me you wanting to explore your sexuality I couldn't resist. I'd understand if you're hesitant, but think on it for a few days?" His face was hopeful as he turned towards her.

Hermione's laugh rang out. "I don't need time to think when you've just handed me the perfect solution. I trust you and Oliver. You're both fit as fuck. You both want me. That's my decision right there." She sat up on her knees and tried to look beguiling. "Don't make me wait longer Charlie. I'm going to spontaneously combust." She pleaded to no avail.

"Sorry, princess. Saturday and you'll be satisfied. I promise." He promised scooping up his robes. "But for now, duty calls. I'll see you at breakfast in the morning. Sweet dreams." He smirked, kissed her lightly, and swept out of her chambers. For the second night in a row Hermione was going to bed horny, but damn it all if she couldn't wait for Saturday.


	4. Poison

Author's note:  
I am so so sorry to have abandoned this story! I'm coming back better than ever hopefully, my personal life has been pretty turbulent and my muse just hasn't been with me.  
This chapter is for Diamond838 who messaged me asking for an update.  
Hope you enjoy!  
-Tanaka

Chapter 3: Poison- Alice Cooper

To say Hermione Granger was on edge that first week of classes was an understatment. The classes, her students; it helped to distract her from her date with the Devils of Hogwarts, as she'd nicknamed them, looming ahead. And they were oh-so-delightfully _bad._ She'd heard whispers among her older students, mostly females, about the dragon tamer; his tattoos, that smirk, those eyes! And who could forget the professional quidditch player: that brogue, his bedroom eyes, that body! Hermione could empathise.

The two drove her mad throught the week. Meal times, with their casual touches, smoldering looks, and witty _double entendre,_ left her wound up, craving something decidely carnal. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd come apart under her own hand over the past few days, yet still felt cagey and unfufilled. She did her best to bury the desire to jump them both, and focused on putting her students through their paces. The first week was a simple review and introduction, gauging their knowledge, and she was throughly impressed. Professor Flitwick hadn't lost his touch.

Her first years, however were her absolute favorite, particularly the muggleborns. Their wonder and awe at simple charms made her remember her first year fondly, although she hoped her students would avoid the worst of the troubles that Harry had gotten her into. Her students seemed in awe of the former war heroine, bumbling and fumbling trying not to ask the questions burning in their minds.

It was Friday evening, and she was pouring over her first assignments to be graded. Parchment made things a bit more difficult, since it wanted to curl onto itself. Really, why couldn't they just use pen and paper. Some muggle things did have their advantages.

"All work an' no play makes fer a dull girl, ya know." Oliver's voice broke her musings, and she jumped. He stood just inside her doorway, looking far too good for her libido's sake.

"Yes, well, some of us have actual marks to give, you know." She quipped saucily, with no real heat, and a genuine smile. Putting her quill down, she streched slowly, feeling her tense neck and shoulders relax slightly. She didn't miss the hot gaze that slowly swept over her.

"I've 'ad my hands full this week, I'd 'ave you know. Like te see ye teach the lot of firsties teh fly." Oliver smirked at her, knowing full well he'd never see Hermione on the back of a broom willingly. He chuckled at her horrified face. "C'mon, skive offa work. Come down teh the village with me an' Charlie. Your marks can wait til teh mornin'."

"Sorry, I can't, Oli. I've got to get these done. I've got a date with two rogues tomorrow night and I'm not quite sure I'll feel up to doing any grading on Sunday. I have quite the feeling I'm going to need a full day of recovery." She smirked, feeling very female all of a sudden. Circe's tits, she never thought she'd be outright hinting at being taken by two men at once, least of all in her own classroom. Who was this new woman?

Oliver chuckled darkly, and she felt it almost like a physical caress against her skin. "I reckon I'll leave a lady to it then. I'll be thinking of yeh. Tommorow, after dinner, yeh're ours." He warned, eyes glinting dangerously. Winking at her, he turned and left.

Hermione released a deep sigh, wiggled in her seat and turned back to her grading. Lost in the work, she didn't hear the soft whisper of a disillusionment charm outside her door. Shuffling through papers, she missed the soft creak as the door to her office opened and shut. Her curls tumbled around her face and into her eyes, and frustratedly she tamed it into a makeshift bun, shoving her wand through it to hold it back.

She could've sworn she felt a breeze gently across her neck just then, raising gooseflesh on her arms. Knowing the castle was drafty, she brushed it off and cast a quick, wandless heating charm. Much more comfortable, her eyes skimmed the pages, making notations on the first assignments of her Sixth years. They where quite bright, she noted, not that she expected any less from N.E.W.T level students.

She damn near jumped out of her skin when she felt lips on her exposed neck and let out a startled cry, reaching for her wand."Oi, calm down, Pet." Oliver's brogue whispered into her ear. "Just get back to yeh marks." His tongue laved the side of her neck, nipped up to her ear, and she groaned when she felt his teeth scrape along her earlobe. Her nipples tightened.

"I really do need to get this grading done." She murmured helplessly, already sucked into the sensation. Teeth grazed the senstive flesh at the base of her neck, and her head rolled to the side to allow him better access. Hissing when Oliver took a good nip, she felt it in her clit.

"Disillusion yourself and kiss me, please." She whined. "I need to feel your lips on mine." Obligingly, he did as she asked, spinning her chair around to meet her honey eye with deep amber, full of passion. Oliver swept her into a mind melting kiss, completely knocking grading from her mind. Her mouth opened for him with a moan as he reached up, released her hair, weaved his fingers into it, and tugged with just the right pressure.

Voraciously, he ate at her mouth, and she imagined all the other places she'd like to have that mouth. Her thighs clenched at the thought of his dark head buried between them. She was sure he'd be happy to oblige. Coming up for air, she gazed up at him, so tall, dark, and handsome, and giggled.

"Thank you for a much needed break, Oliver. I'll be thinking about that kiss until I see you tommorrow. Hell, I may have to come thinking about being snogged so throughly." She laughed, not entirely kidding. In all her life, she'd never been made to so wound up with just a kiss.

"Ah, Ah, Pet, no cummin' til tommorow with us. We want yeh nice an' rested." His smirk was pure male satisfaction.

"That's cruel!" She exclaimed, not being able to imagine not getting off, the way she felt right now. She was sure she'd self combust by tommorow night."

"I'll make it up to yeh, I promise. Be a good girl, and I'll see you at breakfast. Charlie and I are gonna go 'ave a round. If you change yehr mind, we'll be at the Three Broomsticks. Have fun grading, Pet." He said with a saucy wink, leaving her frustrated and gaping after him.


	5. Heaven in Hiding

**Hello readers!  
We're finally getting to the steamy parts of ****_Rumour Has It._** **  
** **This chapter is VERY NC-17!** **  
Hope you enjoy!  
-Tanaka**

Chapter 5: Heaven in Hiding - Halsey

Saturday was here, and Cicre's tits, Hermione Granger was nervous, more nervous than she had been on her wedding night when she was a virgin. Hell, she _felt_ like a virgin all over again. She'd been up half the night pacing, wondering if she should call the whole shebang off, knowing that the men would respect her wishes. But in reality, she didn't really want to. Hermione hated not being knowledable in a subjuct, but sex was one of those things that one simply couldn't learn out of a book.

Putting on a black lace bra and panties set, she dressed for dinner in simple muggle jeans and black v-necked t-shirt and oversized, open jumper. She hoped her Gryffindor courage would be with her tonight as she walked in blind. What had she been thinking, really? She'd only been with one man, and now she was bold enough for a triad? She'd lost her marbles.

As she walked in the Great Hall, her eyes were glued to both Charlie and Oliver, who both looked at her like wolves looked at sheep. She gulped nervously, but walked proudly and took her seat between the two.

"You look like you could pass out at any moment, love. Not backing out on us are you?" Charlie whispered the moment she took her seat between the two.

"Are you kidding me?" She asked with false bravado. "You've been teasing me for a week and I didn't get to come last night by decree of the Scottish rogue. I'm not backing out, I'm just nervous. I'm allowed to be." She hissed the last part quietly.

"Yeh'll thank me once yeh're so sensitive yeh can't bear to cum anymore." Oliver whispered in her ear, and she felt her face color, suddenly grateful for their place at the end of the table. Oliver, with his keeper's relfexes dodged her light swat. "Yeh wound me, lass." He quipped, predator's eyes flashing with mirth.

Food appeared, and subjects drifted to safer topics. Banter was easy with both of the men for Hermione. Dinner seemed to take both an eternity and the blink of an eye, but before long, plates disappeared and the crowd started to exit en mass.

Gathering her courage with a sultry smile, she asked "Well, what next, gentlemen?"

"Where would you be the most comfortable, Hermione?" Charlie, ever the thoughtful one, asked. Hermione pondered. Could she do this in her own bed? No, she decided. Not the first time.

"Could we go to your hut, Charlie? I'd rather not have a chance of being disturbed at either mine or Oliver's quarters in the castle." She asked, batting her lashes.

"As me Lady wishes!" Oliver exclaimed drawing a few eyes, but took her arm. She flushed again. If he kept this up the whole school would know.

"Let's go then." Charlie smiled warmly at her taking her other arm and leading her from the Great Hall, unknowlingly one set of eyes followed their retreat, and Minerva McGonagall smiled to herself.

Before she knew it, Hermione found herself in Charlie's hut tucked in front of a warm fire roaring in the hearth with a fantasic glass of elf wine in hand. She quickly finished the first glass and Oliver poured her anothe with a wink. "Easy on th' wine, pet. Yeh'll want te remember what comes next."

"Nerves," she muttered "always make me drink more than I should."

"You've nothing to be nevous about, Hermione. It's just us." Charlie told her laying a hand on her shoulder. He looked fastastic in firelight, she noted, his long hair shining like burnished copper.

She downed her second glass in a single pull, and turned to both of them, feeling slightly tipsy and far braver as she stood up. "What happens next? Are there rules? What do I need to know or do?"

Both men laughed, and she started to get offended, thinking they were laughing at her before Oliver explained. "We made a wager, pet, wonderin' how long it'd be before you'd ask about soddin' rules. I owe Charlie five galleons." She laughed with them, now, at how predictable she was.

"You set the pace here, Hermione. We should be a safe haven for you. Anything you want to do or try is fair game between the three of us." Charlie told her. Her heart soared.

"Anything?" she whispered. She'd been subjugated to purely lights-out, missionary sex for years with Ron. There had never been any playing around with new ideas, toys, or anything.

"Anything fer you, pet. I can't promise I'll let yeh set th' pace all th' time though. I tend to be a bit of a demandin' lover." Oliver grinned at her, and she wanted to swoon. These handsome men were really going to do this.

"Okay, just be patient with me. I've only ever been with Ron, and it wasn't exactly thrilling. You'd better be ready to teach me a thing or two." She said with a smile.

"I do have one rule, love. No more talk of Ron when it comes to sex. It's just a bit awkward for me." Charlie added. She nodded, completely understanding. "So, your call, Hermione. What do you want to do?" She squirmed between both of their heavy, expectant gazes.

"Kiss me. Both of you. Make me forget everyone before you." She breathed. Charlie pulled her to him, fitting her firmly against his lean body,and she sighed as his lips met hers in a devilish kiss. He led her into a teasing, mind melting, soul rocking snogging session, his goatee tickled her chin, the whole while. Someone had clearly taught this man to kiss.

Hermione felt her hair being tangled in Oliver's hand as he lifted it free, pulling off her jumper to run his tongue along her neck and felt wicked to be sandwiched between two masculine bodies. She moaned into Charlie's mouth when Oliver nibbled on a particularly sensitive spot, and her nipples beaded through bra. The friction from the lace, her shirt and Charlie's chest was soon driving her crazy.

"I...I'd like you both shirtless, please." She said pulling back and spinning to Oliver, raking her eyes from his chisled chest to meet his hungry eyes.

"As my lady commands. You too?" Charlie whispered hotly in her ear. Oliver just nodded and started unbuttoning his black button down.

"I want to see yeh, pet."Oliver purred, raking his hands under her thin tee shirt along the sensitve skin of her stomach. Feeling self concious, she did as she was told, stepping back from them to tug the material free. She fought the urge to cover her breasts in their scanty lace bra, but stood proudly before the men with a smile.

"Blimey, yeh're gorgeous, Hermione." Oliver muttered, pulling her back to trap her between their two bodies. "Now, pet, kiss meh." He murmured against her lips, light beard abrading her soft skin. Wrapping her hands in his thick hair, she pulled him down to her level and brushed her open mouth against his. Oliver's kiss was more controlling, less teasing. Hotter and made her want him inside her immediately.

"He's right, you know. You're beautiful. Firelight makes your skin look like you've been dipped in gold dust." Charlie ran his hands along every inch of her exposed back. "Never thought you'd be the type for black lace though." He smirked against her skin as he laid kisses on her spine.

"Has anyone ever told him he talks too much?" She asked Oliver, saucily. She felt his deep baritone chuckle all the way to her toes.

"I'll show you, I talk to much. Bloody woman." Charlie chuckled, unhooking her bra, and running his hands down to unsnap her jeans. "Do you get the first taste or do I?" He asked Oliver, pushing her jeans to her ankles, leaving her standing nearly nude between the two.

"Yeh can 'ave the firs' taste of her quim. These tits are makin' me crazy" Oliver palmed her breast and rolled a nipple and she moaned loudly.

"I don't care who gets what, just please don't stop touching me." She half begged.

"Bring her to the bed then. I want to eat her properly." Charlie Weasley had never looked so devilish or so hot with all his glorious ink and toned body. His chest was sparsley covered with ginger hair and in ran down in the happiest of trails to meet his low slung jeans.

"Oi, gotcha. " Oliver swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style until he reached Charlie's huge bed, and dropped her. She bounced with a giggle and looked up at them. They were equally so gorgeous, but in such different ways. Charlie was bulkier, but Oliver was more lean, willowy, which made him the perfect quidditch player she supposed.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary, love." Charlie stated wiggling down beween her thighs.

"I feel like it. You're both about to put your mouths and other things all over me. How can I not be excited?"

"Enjoy then, pet." Oliver said with a wink, taking his wand and simply tearing her panties from her body withj a handy bit of spellwork. Charlie ran his hands gently along her thighs, running high and higher until he stroked the outside lips of her pussy gently while Oliver ran his hands all along her breasts, tweakig her pebbled nipples. She groaned, feeling a flood of wetness between her thighs.

"Methinks the lady likes it." Murmmered Charlie with a chuckle before lapping her slit. The man ate pussy like he lived for it. She keened when he found her clit and sucked. Hermione reached to tangle her hands in his hair, but Oliver grabbed them in his own, choosing then to start pressing open mouthed kisses down to her breasts. He captured a nipple in his mouth as Charlie sucked harder on her sensitive clit. Hermione thrashed against their grips, not knowing if she was struggling to get away or closer to their magical mouth. It felt like hours they drove her crazy. Each knowing just how to use their mouths, teeth and hands. She wailed her first orgasm.

"Yer skin tastes o' honey, Pet. I wonder if yer quim does too." Oliver's brogue sounded so naughty against her skin. His beard felt like sandpaper against her skin, firing all her nerve ending at once, making her even more sensitive.

"Her cunt's even better, mate." Charlie said, wiping his mouth with a grin. That goatee of his had driven her crazy, rough hair tickling the most senstive parts of her body. "Want to trade?" Her eyes rolled back in her head as Charlie slipped two fingers deep inside her pussy and crooked them up, hitting her gspot just right.

"Gods, no trading. Please, one of you, fuck me." She begged, not caring how desperate she sounded.

"Oliver can fuck you, Pet. I want to see you swallow my cock." She met Charlie's dark blue eyes, and a shiver ran through her.

"Anything, just make me come again." She pleaded.

Oliver chuckled darkly, "Oi, Pet, I ca' promise yeh that." The men, by some unspoken cue, got up and began to shuck their jeans. Again, Oliver was more leanly built and his cock was longer and thinner. Her eyes blew wide at the length of him. Charlie's cock was a little shorter, but hugely thick, making her wonder how she would ever get her mouth around him. She was never very experienced at felatio, but she'd read about how to do it properly.

"Get on yer hans and knees, Pet." Oliver ordered, "I wanta watch yeh suckin' him." A thrill went through Hermione as she did as she was told, putting herself face to face with Charlie's thick cock. She raised her eyes to meet his and opened her mouth. She leaned forward to slowly run her tongue along the head, tasting the salty precome that had already beaded up. He groaned and she felt powerful.

"Feed me your cock, Charlie." She pleaded, and opened fully. He obliged, pressing forward slowly, over her tongue and down to her throat, stopping, thoughtfully before she gagged. He began a slow, methodical rythym. Tenatively, she reached up with one hand to graze his balls, rolling them in her palm. He groaned loudly, and she did too around his cock when Oliver started stroking his cock along her soaked slit.

Oliver began to press inside, making her eyes roll in her head as she reached the base of Charlie's cock. Blue eyes met brown, and he nodded to Oliver to pick up the pace. Gods, she felt so good, Oliver was hitting all the right spots and she was moaning like a whore around Charlie's cock. They played her body like a fiddle as she went rigid between them several times, coming hard around Oliver.

"Her mouth's a dream. I think we have a natural born cock-sucker here, mate." Charlie said crudely, but it only turned her on more.

She pulled off his cock with a pop, and said "I'll be a good little whore if I can taste myself off of Oliver's cock." Admitting one of her fantasies aloud.

"What a dirty feckin' mouth on yeh, Pet. Give the lass what she wants. I wanta cum down her throa' anywae." Oliver said with a smack on her ass that startled her.

"Oh!" She cried. But the stinging slap turned into radating warmth, and she rubbed her face against Charlie's cock. Nothing escaped his notice.

"Would you like me to spank you while I fuck you one day, Hermione?" Charlie asked in a deep, masterful voice. She looked up, bit her lip, but nodded hesitantly. He smirked. Nodding to Oliver, the two changed places again.

Oliver flipped her over where she was flat on her back, head hanging off the bed, and said "I'm gonta fuck yer throat, Pet. If it gets ta be too much, pinch me thigh. Relax and yeh'll enjoy it." She nodded, trusting him implicitly. Charlie climbed between her thighs, hooking her legs over his arms, sliding deeply inside her, setting a rapid pace.

Oliver did the same, sliding between her lips. Their combinded taste was delicious, and she felt so naughty licking herself off someone's cock.

"Fuck, You feel so good, Hermione." Charlie panted, angling her legs to where he could hit her gspot every thrust. Her eyes watered as she moaned around Oliver's cock. She wanted to cry out so desperately, but she was enjoying having both her mouth and her cunt fucked so throughly. She clenched tightly around Charlie, coming hard and feeling completely spent and limp. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He called out, following her into orgasmal bliss. Oliver's pace increased, and he came on her tongue, allowing her to taste him before swallowing his load.

Both men tucked themselves along side her, cuddling her, petting her. They murmurred soft words, stroked her sensitive skin and allowed her to come back to earth slowly.

"Holy shite." She whispered, and giggled.


End file.
